Chicago High: The Struggle
by rachelmx
Summary: This is about Tris and bad boy Four in our world, at the same high school. There will eventually be some Fourtris, but I don't want to rush it and make it unrealistic. I am trying to make it relatable. If you like realistic fiction, action, and romance, this story is for you. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Hi guys! (I know, I need to get you guys a name... suggestions, anyone?) So this is my first fanfiction, and I am just trying it out to see if I want to pursue writing. It takes place in Chicago still, but in our world. Like, right now. This chapter is really short, I know, but take it easy on me, okay? I'm just starting out on this.**

 **Don't forget to comment on anything you would like me to change, or just comment to give your thoughts. That would be extremely appreciated. I'll try to do comment responses at the beginning of the next chapter. I hope you guys enjoy this!**

 **Beatrice's POV**

"Beatrice, wake up!"

I groaned, flipped onto my stomach, and covered my head with my pillow, attempting to block out the familiar voice. _Why can't he just leave me alone? It's a Sunday,_ I thought as someone shook me. Peeking out from underneath my pillow, I got a quick view of my older brother, Caleb, standing with a smirk on his face, victorious. I was now awake, and he knew it.

"Caleb, get out. I am _obviously_ trying to sleep here." I huffed, greatly displeased by my brother's enduring smirk. "Leave me alone," I added, in case he didn't get the memo.

I waited for him to leave, until he started tickling, me, yelling, "Aww, does poor, baby Beatwice not want to go to high school? Scawed to weave middle school, are we?" in his best baby voice.

I shot up, nearly taking off Caleb's nose with my head as I rushed to the other side of my room to look at my calendar. _Damn it, it really is Monday, isn't it,_ I thought as I leaned all my weight against my brother, trying to shove him through the door. When he was finally out, I shut the door, and heard a satisfying click as the lock shifted into place.

I ignored Caleb's request for a thank you for 'saving my skinny little butt', as he put it, as I made my way towards the mirror I had set up in my room. _Holy hell, I look like a tornado put into a blender,_ I observed, frowning at my impossible bedhead and the bags under my too wide blue eyes. I almost didn't see the new, huge pimple on my hairline. _I'll really have to haul butt to get myself ready in time for the first day of high school._

I shuffled through my closet, trying to pick out something to wear. _Nothing too bright, but nothing too dark, either…_ I thought, as I pulled out a gray tank that advertised my favorite band, Fall Out Boy, and a pair of light skinny jeans. I set them out on my nightstand before stepping into a cold shower.

* * *

I wrapped a towel around my hair after I pulled on my clothes. I decided to put on a little makeup, just some mascara, eyeliner, and blush, then did my best to cover up that nasty pimple. I proceeded to take the towel off my head, letting my long, blonde hair tumble down my back. After the shower, it didn't look even half as bad as it did when I woke up, so I just pulled a brush through it and twisted it up into my signature bun. _There,_ I thought, _now I look halfway decent._

I trudged down the stairs to find my whole family already eating breakfast. My father looked up from the paper and said, "Beatrice, honey, you better get moving or you'll be late. You were in the shower for a really long time."

"Sorry. I must have dozed off in the shower. I'll try to hurry," I responded, glancing at the clock in the kitchen. I tried to do mental math, on a Monday morning, while getting breakfast. It took me a while to get it but... _wait, can that be right? I really have to leave in… six minutes? Crap!_ I thought, as Caleb sent me a wicked smile, taunting me. I still had to pack my bag, eat, brush my teeth, and be out the door by eight. I, as Caleb knew, was doomed.

"You know what? I think I'll just eat this on my way… I really need to go…" I said, to no one in particular.

"That's fine, sweetheart," my loving mother said, "Just don't forget to bring the food to the shelter on your way. They really need our help, now that their President moved. Shame, she was a nice lady, too,"

I visibly blanched. I had completely forgotten about _that!_ That cut my time to leave in half! I sprinted up the stairs, tripping over the top step as I rushed into my room. I frantically shoved my binder and my books into my old, worn, messenger bag. It was sad, really. The strap was frayed, since it was a hand-me-down from Caleb, and what was once a nice, deep, blue was faded into a dull blue. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. It still smelled like Caleb's cleats for soccer. On second thought, I shoved in a stick of deodorant and my gym shoes, since I would be wearing my gladiator-style sandals.

I practically ran into the bathroom, not even stopping as I whipped my toothbrush out of it's holder and slathered on the paste, hastily shoving it into my mouth. _I'm gonna be so late!_ I thought, still brushing my teeth as I retrieved my iPhone from under my bed. I shoved it into my back pocket, not even stopping to unlock the screen. I grabbed my earbuds from my nightstand, placing them in the pocket of my bag along with my phone charger. I went through a mental checklist, making sure I had everything while I rinsed out my mouth. _No time to floss, oh well._

I grabbed my bag, running down the stairs, snagging the bag of food for the homeless shelter as I sprinted out the door, straight into a pedestrian. _I swear, my clumsiness gets worse by the second_ , I thought as I fell painfully on my butt in the middle of the sidewalk. My bag ripped open, my books spilling everywhere along with the canned food. My face fell. Now I would _definitely_ be late. _At least my phone didn't break,_ I thought, trying to see the bright side.

"Need some help?' a deep voice rumbled as I tried to scoop my books back into my bag. I looked up, and found myself staring at what I could only describe as the hottest guy I had ever seen. His hair was dark, almost black, and he had beautiful, deep set, dark blue eyes. His chiseled muscles stood out on his tanned skin, showing through his tight shirt. My eyes drifted back to his face, noting the scar on his chin ( _I wonder where he got that?)_ and the frown on his face. _Holy crap, he has a book bag, does he go to my school? What grade is he in? Do we have any classes together? Dear Lord, I hope not, after this,_ I thought as he bent down to pick up the cans from the sidewalk.

"―know you? You look familiar, what grade are you in?" he asked. My eyes widened as I realized he was talking to me.

"Oh, um, I'm a freshman," I mumbled, my cheeks turning bright red as I scrambled to my feet. When a look of confusion crossed his face, I repeated myself, only louder.

"I know, I heard you, it's just that I'm almost certain I know you from somewhere. Oh, I'm a junior, by the way. What's your name?"

"Beatrice," I said, but then quickly added, "but my friends call me Tris. What's your name?"

"Four," he said softly, so soft I almost missed it.

In my head, I was thinking, _Four? What kind of a name is_ that? _I wonder what his real name is,_ but I forced myself to nod and pull my bag over my shoulder. If there was anything my parents taught me, it was to be kind to others, no matter who they were. Even if I was an introvert that didn't like talking to hot guys I just embarrassed myself in front of on the street.

"So, do you go to Chicago High?" he asked, receiving only a nod from me as a sign that I did. We started toward the high school. It was only half a mile away, easy walking distance. "What classes do you have?"

I supposed I couldn't get out of this one, so I responded with a quick answer. "AP Math III, Self-Defense, Honors English II, and Honors Chemistry. In that order."

His face lit up, showing dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. "Hey! We have all our classes together!" he paused, frowning. "Wait, no, I'm not smart enough to be in your math class. But we have three classes together!"

When I didn't respond, he got the message, and backed off. He didn't speak again until I turned to walk up the stairs to the door of the homeless shelter to drop off my food. He, in an annoyingly cute way, followed me up the steps when he realized I wasn't beside him anymore.

"Now I know why you have canned beans and tuna in your school bag. Makes sense," he commented as he darted in front of me to open the door. When I gave him a questioning look, he simply said that most people wouldn't take the time to do something that generous.

"Yeah, my parents sort of beat it into me to be selfless as a child," I said, looking at my feet, as that pulled out memories of me having to share my treats with the kids in Pre-K. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him flinch when I said the word 'beat'. I didn't think much of it, though, and continued to the front desk.

"Tris! You're back!" shouted the voice of one of my favorite people. I looked up to see Tori doddering towards me, a wide smile plastered on her face. The sight of her melted my heart. I had known Tori for as long as I could remember. I was practically raised by her. "We haven't seen you for a week! What's up? Oh, Tris, is this your boyfriend?"

 **(A/N, yeah I know she isn't that old, I just needed someone here, and it** _ **is**_ **a fanfiction, so I can do what I want :))**

I laughed at her attempt to be cool and told her about the busy week I had getting ready for school. I made sure to mention that I had just met him, and was not, in fact, dating him. I handed her the bag of food and filled out a form, saying what I donated and how much. A couple of the regulars that used the shelter came out and said hi to me. It was so humbling to be around them.

I had forgotten Four was there until he tugged at my elbow, insisting we would be late if I took another minute. As soon as his warm, calloused hand brushed my arm, I felt like I had been electrocuted. I froze up, stuck in shock.

"Tris?" he said, frowning. "You home?"

My face turned bright red as my muscles unlocked. I quickly turned away, not wanting him to see my face when it was that red. I quickly said my goodbyes and we made our way out.

We walked in silence for a couple blocks, and I dropped a couple steps behind him. Part of a tattoo peeked out from the back of his black shirt, but I couldn't tell what it was supposed to be. I admired the curve of his back, along with the defined muscles that bulged against his shirt. He was wearing loose-fitting black army pants, tucked into combat boots, paired with a tight black shirt. He didn't look like he belonged in high school. He looked like a soldier with his close-cropped hair.

Almost as if he could see me looking, he turned around with a smirk on his face. "Like what you see?" he taunted. I stopped dead. I could feel the hot blood rushing to my face, but I forced it away.

"No, you wish though, don't you?" was the only thing I could think of at the moment. I expected him to laugh at the second-grade level retort, but instead, his eyes wandered over my face. He muttered something, but I couldn't quite hear it. He turned away, defeated. It was odd, but I didn't care.

I trotted to catch up with him. "Hey! I thought about it, and I think I know how you recognized me. Maybe you know my father. Andrew Prior? He's on the state Board. I've been told we look alike, though I'm not so sure."

Four shrugged. "Maybe." His face darkened. "My father is on the Board as well. Marcus Eaton?"

"Eaton? Yeah, I know him. My dad talks about him all the time. I swear he's in love or something." I made a face, then did my best 'dad' voice. "' _Kids, have you met Mr. Eaton? You should aspire to be like him. Excellent role model, he is. I was talking to him the other day. He was telling me about his plans for the state. Genius, that man. So selfless, you know.'_ Ugh, no offense, but I don't think anyone can be that great. Is he?" I asked Four.

This was the first time I had looked him in the face since I started to mock my father. His face looked pained, like just listening to me was hard for him. He turned away, fists clenched. "He's not." His response was short and closed off. I got the message and dropped the subject. _Dad said something about him having a son… What was his name again? It's probably Four, but I want to know his real name…I wonder why Four doesn't use his real name...I wonder who he got his stunning looks from, because I_ know _it sure as hell wasn't his dad..._

Over the hill, the roof of the school was visible. Chicago High wasn't anything special, just bricks and windows, like any other school. We had a statue out front of our founder, Jeanine Matthews, but most people didn't like her. A bunch of seniors marred it so badly with shovels it had to be taken down.

Craning my neck, I tried to get a view of the front lawn so I could find Christina. We had been texting about this day for weeks! I never got the chance to see her, apart from school, and she was my best friend. She is the sweetest, bubbliest person you'll ever meet.

As we got to the peak of the hill, I spotted her. She was talking to Will, the guy she had started dating over the summer. She was obsessed with him. She sent me selfies of her and Will at parties, the park, and even some from her dates. She was moving her hands through the air wildly as she presumably told him an exaggerated tale of some sort.

I waved frantically at her to get her attention, with a smile on my face that probably made me look slow. She saw me over Will's shoulder and started to smile, but then her face changed to one of panic. Her mouth dropped open, and when Will turned around to see what she was gaping at, his face was a perfect imitation of hers.

I frowned. _What's wrong with them?_ I thought, turning to Four to ask him if I looked okay. It would be embarrassing if I showed up on the first day of school, looking like a clown. But when I turned to look at him, he had the same expression on his face as when I had brought up his father. Deciding not to say anything because of how stressed he looked, I turned and started walking down the hill to meet Christina and Will.

I was halfway down when I realized Four wasn't following me. In fact, I couldn't see him anywhere. It was like he had vaporized into thin air. He hadn't told me goodbye, and I hadn't even heard him leave. _Strange,_ I thought, _but he probably has other friends here that he wants to see._ But somehow I knew that wasn't right. He hadn't called out to anyone or made any sign of knowing _anyone_ here. It was like Chris and Will scared him away. _Oh well. He can take care of himself._


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

 **A/N-**

 **Review Responses!**

 _ **Sara3361:**_ **You don't know how much that comment helped me!**

 _ **Geronimo the tardis:**_ **Thanks!**

 _ **Books Are Life:**_ **Thanks so much! That means a lot to me, and I'm glad you like it :)**

 _ **Aubrey Cortez:**_ **I appreciate your kind comment! I know, it bugs me not to call him that too, but I have to for now. Key words 'for now'! I am a book fan, good eye, it's just that the movies weren't as good as the books. They weren't really even close. But thanks again!**

 **And to the other people that commented, I personally responded to you so I don't feel the need to write it out again here. If me responding to you on the chapter itself was one of your life goals, I'm so sorry and let me know. Not that I think it'll happen. But anyway. Enjoy, followeroonies! Ha, it wants to correct it to follower ponies! Can't stop laughing!**

 **For real this time, though:**

 **Four's POV (starts where Tris's did)**

My first thought this morning? _School. Yay. I get to go to a brick square for seven hours, endure lectures, move around a bit, eat, then go home. Fun. School._ As you can probably tell, I'm not a morning person. Especially on Mondays. Especially on Mondays that start another year of school. Especially on Mondays that start another year of school where everyone hates me, except a few close guys I have. You have been warned.

I trudged through my morning, taking a long, hot, shower, then slowly pulling on my go-to outfit: tight-fitting long-sleeved tee to cover the bruises, loose army pants from my uncle, and combat boots. All black. _I'm such an interesting person,_ I thought, looking at my outfit. _Super intriguing._

As I packed my backpack for school, I made sure to tuck a knife into a special pocket I had sown into the side of my bag. _They probably won't make a move today, but I need to be prepared for the worst._ Once it was secure, I grabbed my phone from it's spot on my desk, scrolling through my notifications. Nothing there seemed important. There were updates, a few stupid texts on a group chat, and reminders.

I was scrolling back to the top, about to lock my phone, when a text caught my eye. It was from an unknown number. Frowning, I opened it. It read:

" _We are watching you. Don't try anything funny, or you'll regret it. Leave your weapons at home, and don't make contact with your trackers. I see all, and I punish when I see something I don't like. Remember that._

 _-X"_

 _Whatever,_ I thought. _I get texts like that all the time. I'll just trace it and take care of the sender_. I dumped my phone into my bag and glanced at the clock. I had a few minutes before I had to leave, but I really didn't want to have to deal with my dad. I had managed to avoid my father all morning so far, so I ate a quick breakfast, consisting of a piece of bread and a chunk of cheese as I walked out the door.

It was sunny out. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. I closed my eyes, letting the sunlight settle onto my face. It isn't like this every day in Chicago, you know. Most of the time it's too hot or humid. But today? Today was perfect, marred only by the thoughts of my father and school.

I was enjoying the weather, not really paying attention to my surroundings, when all at once, the door on my right opened and someone came flying out, crashing into me, then fell to the ground. I flew to the side, but years of self-training prepared me for this. I stuck out my hand and went into a perfect roll, spinning around and jumping lightly to my feet, my fists up, ready to defend myself.

Then I saw my attacker.

She was beautiful. I lowered my hands in awe. Her apatite eyes sparkled in the sunlight, golden hair falling out of a bun. Her eyes were wide as she scrambled to pick up the books that were scattered all over the pavement. She didn't acknowledge me. I don't think she even saw me. I didn't mind, though. I could have stood there all day, enraptured by her beauty.

I'm not sure how long I stood there before I snapped out of it. It could've been hours, for all I knew. "Need some help?" I asked, bending down to pick up a couple cans of food. _Why does she carry around canned food?_ I thought as she stared up at me. I'm almost certain she was judging me as she looked me up and down. I frowned and handed her the cans.

When she looked me in the face for the first time, something in me clicked. She was suddenly overwhelmingly familiar. It was like I knew her from somewhere, or maybe I had seen her every day for the past year but had never noticed her.

"Don't I know you? You look familiar, what grade are you in?" I asked her.

Her eyes widened and she turned bright red. "Oh, um I'm a freshman," she said. I must have looked confused because she repeated herself, louder this time.

"I know, I heard you, it's just that I'm almost certain I know you from somewhere," I said. _But where?_ "I'm a junior, by the way. What's your name?" I asked. _Maybe that will help me remember._

"Beatrice. But my friends call me Tris." she said in a voice that made me feel like I was melting. "What's your name?"

Ah, the million dollar question. _Should I tell her the truth, or just the name that everyone else knows me by? It'll keep her safer if I tell her my nickname, I think. Yeah, I'll go with that._ "I'm Four." I said, but I felt bad about not telling her my real name, so I said it really softly. She probably judged me even more right then, because she didn't say anything. She just nodded and picked up her bag.

I asked her if she went to my high school, and I think my heart skipped a beat when she said she did. _How did I get lucky enough to go to school with a girl like her?_ I thought. _Maybe she's in my classes. I'll ask her._ When I asked her what classes she had and she told me we had all but one of our classes together, I was trying _really_ hard not to jump for joy at the thought of spending almost all of my day around her.

I settled for a smile. "Hey! We have all our classes together!" _Wait, that's not true,_ I thought, my forehead wrinkling into a frown. "Wait, no, I'm not smart enough to be in your math class. But we have three classes together!"

I waited for her to respond. Maybe jump up and hug me, just as excited as I was, or even just a smile. But _noooo,_ all I got from Little Miss Introvert here was silence. So I let her walk in silence. I had stuff to think about, too. Happy things, like my dad, school, and the threats I was getting, all sorts of stuff. Note the sarcasm.

We had been walking for about five minutes when I realized Tris wasn't next to me anymore. Immediately, scary thoughts filled my mind. _What if she hurt herself, just walking, and I didn't notice? She is pretty clumsy. Or worse, what if she was kidnapped? And I was right next to her the entire time?_

I looked around, and when I saw her I felt immensely stupid. She was walking up the steps to the homeless shelter. _So that's what the cans are for,_ I thought as I followed her up the stairs. _That's nice of her._ I was liking this girl more and more by the minute.

I stepped in front of her and pulled open the door. "Now I know why you have canned beans and tuna in your school bag. Makes sense," I said. She looked at me like I was crazy. "It's just that most people don't take the time to do something that generous."

"Yeah, my parents sort of beat it into me to be selfless as a child," she said, obviously taking a stroll down memory lane. I cringed when she said the word _beat._ It pulled out some of _my_ memories. They weren't better than hers, though. _I hope._ I don't think she noticed, because she walked up to the front desk without saying anything else.

"Tris! You're back!" An old lady came waddling in from the back, smiling wider than I've seen anybody smile in my entire life. "We haven't seen you for a week! What's up?"

Then she saw me. "Oh, Tris," she said, her smile widening (if that was even possible). "Is this your boyfriend?"

Tris laughed. "No," she said. "I just met him, like, twenty minutes ago. I've been super busy with getting everything together for school and haven't had time to come in. I wish I did, though. I love everyone here!"

Just as she said that, a group of people that I am assuming were homeless came out, going to hug Tris when they saw her _. Apparently she comes a lot,_ I thought. _She's like freaking Snow White! I wish I was that good-hearted._

I got bored sitting in the waiting room, so I played a little game where I would close my eyes and count to sixty, then open them and look at the clock to see if I was staying on time with the clock. It was like a small victory each time it came out on the eighteenth second of the minute. Then I saw the time. _We should probably go soon_ , I mused, only partially concerned that Tris hadn't finished whatever she was doing.

When she looked like she was done filling out her forms, I walked over to her and (after much mental debate) gently looped my hand around her elbow and pulled her towards the door, saying that we should get going again. She didn't react the way I thought she would.

Instead of being annoyed at me and pushing past me, giving me the silent treatment, she jumped like she had been electrocuted, then froze up. She was starting to scare me.

"Tris? You home?" I asked, not wanting to let go of her arm in fear of her collapsing.

Her face turned a bright shade of red and she put her back to me. She ignored me and said goodbye to everyone in the room.

We walked in silence for a long time. Inside, I was trying to find what I had done wrong. _Did I insult her? Push her? What?_ As I tried to figure it out, she dropped behind me. I didn't think much of it, until I could feel her eyes boring a hole into my back.

The harder I tried to shake off that feeling, the harder it was to do. So, I did the one thing I could. I spun around, startling her. "Like what you see?" I asked, plastering a smirk on my face. I expected her to turn cherry red and ignore me more, but she was witty.

"No, you wish, though, don't you?" she replied, emulating my smirk. It was my turn to turn red.

"Yeah, I do," I muttered under my breath, turning my back on her. _Girls are so confusing. One second they're giving you the silent treatment, then they check you out, then they make you feel bad about yourself, then they ignore you again. Guys are easy. They're just out to get you. But girls? No. And this one in particular? No. Ugh, is that the school?_

Yes, it was. Over the hill, I could see the rooftops of our _glorious_ high school. _Chicago High_. Go Bulldogs! Tris raced in front of me, craning her neck. I assumed she was looking for someone, maybe her boyfriend. I was _really_ wishing it wasn't a guy. She saw them and started waving like a madman. Then I saw who she was waving at. They were staring at her like she was crazy, then looking at me like I was insane for just walking to school with her.

 _Better disappear,_ I thought, and was gone by the time she turned around. I was sorry to not be able to say goodbye, but I was going to see her in second period, so it didn't really matter. _Shoot,_ I thought, realizing that whoever _X_ was probably saw me with her. _What if they use her to get to me? I would hate myself if anything happened to her._ Another snarky little voice in my head said: _This is why you don't get close to people, you idiot. She probably hates you, anyway._

As I walked around the back of the school to the meeting place for me and a couple close friends of mine, I got another text. From X. It went along the lines of, " _Beatrice Prior? Really? I don't think you're good enough for her, but hey, she is_ very _pretty, don't you think? What a shame it would be if the poor little thing went missing. Good thing I can't get to her, right?_

 _-X"_

My breath caught as I read the last line and I yelled at Zeke, who had his math class with her, to get his ass up and come with me as quickly as he could. I told him the basics of what I knew leaving out the fact that I think I had a _crush_ on her, and told him that I didn't want anything to happen to anyone innocent on my account.

 _No, no, no, no, this can't be happening!_ I mentally screamed at myself for leaving her unprotected as we sprinted to find her. School didn't start for another couple minutes, and wanted Zeke keeping an eye on her while I couldn't. My eyes swept across the lawn, searching for the beautiful blonde. _Please let her be okay,_ I thought.

My breath whooshed out of me in relief when I saw her, laughing with her friends. I hadn't realized that I had been holding it until then. A little envy crept into me when I saw her laugh at something a guy (the one who had been staring at us like we were idiots) said. I ripped my gaze from her and turned to face my best friend.

"There," I said, pointing her out to Zeke. "Your first class is with her. Make sure nothing happens to her. Starting in two seconds."

He gave me a funny look that I couldn't read, but it didn't say anything other than his normal "See ya, dude." I relaxed fractionally as he jogged down the hill and stood by the tree next to her, staring at his phone. To anyone else, he was just a guy, waiting for school to start, but he was probably aware of what everyone around him was doing, wearing, and saying. He's pretty observant, if you ask me. That's the reason I chose him to protect her, other than his schedule similarity.

I sat on the hill and watched Tris for a couple more minutes until it was time to go into the school. She was at the steps leading in to Chicago High when she took a last look around the lawn, her eyes landing on me before she gave me a subtle smile. Warmth flooded me, and I smiled back, but she had already turned away.

My face fell. Well, I only had an hour and a half until I saw her again. Until then, she was on her own. I stood, brushing grass off my pants, and grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. I took a deep breath and started towards the school. _Here goes nothing._


	3. READ THIS PLEASE

**A/N: DON'T SKIP THIS UNLESS YOU'RE READING THIS IN 2016 OR LATER! I NEED FEEDBACK, PEOPLE. REVIEWS AND STUFF! l**

 **Hello, my followeroonies! I am super sorry for not updating, I only have like 950 words. What I have isn't very good quality either, and I don't want to post that. I feel like it would let you all down, and whatnot. But if you want me to update, leave a review saying so. I have a full section of Tris's POV, and I could find a way to wrap up (for now) what I'm doing in Four's. So leave a comment telling me whether or not you want me to update in the next couple days. Please. And I need motivation, guys. I don't want to be the person that begs for reviews, but I seriously want to know where you want the book to go. Thanks if you read the whole thing, so this doesn't make this a waste of space.**

 **-rachelmx 3**


	4. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

 **A/N-**

 **Review Responses!**

 _ **Aubrey Cortez:**_ **Yeah, he sort of is. But he only wants to protect her, so, give him some credit. He doesn't want anything to happen to her. I'm glad you like my story!**

 _ **Soccerpup17:**_ **Thanks! I'm glad you didn't have to wait long.**

 _ **Fourtrisudamnsexy:**_ **Okay, here ya go.**

 _ **Beingafangirlisfun:**_ **Thanks for the support, it means a lot.**

 **Okay followeroonies! I have your update! I asked if you wanted a short, sucky update now or a better, longer one in, like, a week, and you said that you would rather have it now. So here ya go! I'm sorry for the bad quality. And the shortness (is that a word?) of it all. I can't thank you enough for reading this and supporting me, so far I've had only positive comments, and I love it.**

 **DISCLAIMER: However much I wish I owned this, I don't. :(**

 **Tris' POV (starts where Four's left off)**

The school bell rang. _Time for math class,_ I thought, trudging alongside Chris and Will, feeling like a severe third wheel. _How do people_ like _this and want to do four extra years of it?_ Oh well. Some mysteries must remain mysteries. _Speaking of,_ I mused, _where did Four go? He was there one second but gone the next. He's like some sort of teenage ninja._

"Who's a teenage ninja?" Christina laughed. _Oops._

I cringed. "Did I say that out loud?" I said, already knowing the answer.

"You sure did, Tris. Now answer the question." She gripped my shoulders and stared into my eyes, serious now. Did I mention she has a friggin' _scary_ serious face? "Who is a teenage ninja? Michelangelo, oh, whatshisface, c'mon, Will help me out here, Leo―"

I laughed. "Not a teenage mutant ninja turtle, Chris. He's just a, well, teenage ninja."

"So he's a he, is he?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows up and down. "You never told me about him! Who is he?"

"He's nobody, Chris. Just a guy I met this morning. Actually, knocked down this morning."

Her eyes widened. "Wait," she said, and I could practically see the gears spinning in her head. "The guy you were with this morning when you came to school? You should seriously stay away from him, Tris."

"Why?" I said. "He's really nice. A bit quiet, but nice. He helped me up when I fell down, and he helped pick up my books. And he waited for me when I had to drop some stuff off for Tori."

Christina frowned. "Tris, I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't mean it." Now she had her real serious face on, and I didn't understand why. "Everyone is afraid of him, Tris, and they have a reason to be. He's _scary_ , Tris."

"But _why,_ Chrissie? What did he do? He'd never hurt anyone, I know that." I was mad now. I knew she'd never lie to me, I mean, her family's top priority was honesty, but I just couldn't believe this about Four. He was a perfectly nice, perfectly funny, perfectly shaped guy that I may or may not have a crush on. "I'll see you around, Chris." I turned my back on her and nodded at Will, who had shrunken back, not knowing what to do while Christina and I fought.

"Tris! Wait, I'm sorry. I just don't want you to get hurt." I stopped, and turned around, waiting for her to say more. "Look, you can form your own opinion on him, but when he hurts you, don't say I didn't warn you."

I shook my head in disgust. She just didn't get it. Four hadn't hurt me yet, and no matter what she thought, I wasn't going to turn my back on a guy I just met. He deserved a chance. And he was practically perfect. I hurried to my first class, just wanting the day to be over already.

 **A/N: What did you think? Let me know by dropping a quick review! Again, sorry for the suckiness and short length. Goodbye, my followeroonies! Kisses!**


	5. I'm really sorry

**A/N**

 **Hi guys! I'm really sorry that I haven't updated. I'm out of the country right now, and I only have had five minutes before this to write, and now I've only got one. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update next, but don't worry, I will. I promise. So, sorry again. Okay, gotta run. Bai!**


	6. Chapter 3 Part Two

**A/N-**

 **Review Responses!**

 _ **Aubrey Cortez:**_ **Yeah, he sort of is. But he only wants to protect her, so, give him some credit. He doesn't want anything to happen to her. I'm glad you like my story!**

 _ **Guest:**_ **Thank you!**

 _ **DauntlessGirl75:**_ **I'll try, but keep in mind, they've known each other for a total of maybe two hours, so… yeah.**

 _ **FactionMixer:**_ **I'm sorry! I didn't realize I was doing that. So, I'll try and focus more on the action side of it.**

 _ **Fourtris Forever**_ **(you were incognito): okay, here ya go! I'm glad you like it.**

 **DISCLAIMER: However much I wish I owned this, I don't. :(**

 **Four's POV**

I really need something better to do than sit through school. I'm serious. The only joy in my life was looking forward to seeing a girl that I'm pretty sure hates me in my next class. I mean, come on, that's pretty sad.

After staring at the board for an hour, the teacher's words not even coming close to being absorbed into my brain, I found something. In my class, a jerk named Peter was harassing some poor, innocent sophomore, and it was getting old. I stood up and announced, "Well, Percy," using a different name that I knew would piss him off, "you gonna make that poor girl cry or what?"

The teacher was baffled. She looked young, twenty-five at the most, and this was most likely her first year teaching. Poor thing, she had probably never encountered a confrontation, much less a public one. She stood with her mouth silently opening and closing while Peter glared at me. Now, just for the fun of it, I suppressed a grin and continued. "I bet she's tired of it, too. I know I am. Why don't you leave her alone now?"

His glare was more intense now, and he stood up. "Why don't you take your oversized nose somewhere else, huh?" Peter spat. I could practically see the steam pouring out of his ears. "Or do you need me to do it for you?"

Oh man, he was into it now. 'On a roll,' Zeke would say. Peter was growing confident in his words, and everyone could tell. He held his head up, chest puffed out, and tried to look intimidating, which made me burst into laughter. He was a full head shorter than me, and the sight of him glaring up at me like a little, angry turtle was too much. His face turned a dark shade of purple, and he couldn't seem to find the humor in the situation.

I was wheezing by then, bent over at the waist, clutching my stomach. "Y-you… look.. like a turtle!" I choked out, and his face twisted into a mask of rage. Peter's fist came flying at me, but it was weak. It didn't take much effort to block it and push him away, still laughing. He didn't try to hit me again, but from the look on his face, I knew it wouldn't be long before he did.

"Dude, what the―!" I said, and with that the teacher gathered her wits and sent us both to the principal's office. I had been ordered there so many times, I could probably close my eyes and make it to his office without even stumbling. Not to brag or anything. Just saying.

I lagged behind Peter to take the longer route, making my way in a loop around the school. I walked leisurely, taking my time before arriving at the double doors that lead into the office. I can still remember my first trip down here…

 ***FLASHBACK***

 _I am running. Someone chases after me, calling my name. My real name, the one my mother gave me. Tobias. I want to turn around and fight them, for taking everything I had, but they are stronger, and will quickly overpower me. So I run down the empty street, my instincts telling me to twist through the city, which is eerily dark and empty._

 _I pant, legs aching, and I'm not sure of how much farther I can make it. My lungs burn, but I press on. I can hear them behind me, coming closer and closer. I scan the street for any sign of escape, and my eyes land on a rickety old fire escape._

 _It's around a block away, and I tell myself,_ just one more step, one more, _over and over until I'm ten or so yards away. I curse. From further away, my escape seemed plausible. But up close, I find that the ladder has been pulled up, and I'll have to jump to reach it. I grit my teeth. I have to, or I'm dead. Pushing myself even harder, I stumble, having reached the edge of my abilities. I nearly have a heart attack when a door opens on my right and an old man sticks his head out._

" _Come, come, quickly!" he says, and with no time for caution, I do. When I am safely inside, he closes the door. He peeks out the window between the curtains, taking a moment before letting them fall together. They are a drab beige color, much like the rest of the room we are in. However, in the corner I see something of interest. A potter's wheel, surrounded by pictures of… a woman? My… mother? I need to know more, so I turn my attention to the man._

" _Why," I spit, "do you have those pictures?" I'm doing all I can to not thrust my pocketknife into his neck right now._

 _He sighs, and I see years on him that I didn't before. The weight of loss, the pressure of guilt._

 _I almost feel bad for him. Almost._

 _He turns to me. "Tobias," he says. When he sees my hand move to the pocket where I keep my knife, he takes a step back. "Listen, I'm not here to hurt you. I would've let them get to you."_

 _I suppose he's right, but that doesn't explain him. I don't move, and he tells me that he's my mother's old friend. "When she was… when–" he struggles to get the words out._

" _When she was dying…?" I prompt._

 _He looks grateful for it, and I realize that he didn't want to offend me by saying 'dying'. "Yes, when she was… dying, she told me to look after you. She knew Marcus would go back to his bad ways, and drag you with him. It wasn't ideal, but I had to. She was my best friend." He looks up at me, and I can see in his eyes that everything he has said is genuine. "You understand that, right?"_

 _I nod, but dark rancor rises up in me, threatening to spill out. I take a couple deep breaths, like George taught me to, to force it back down. It helps only slightly, and a couple angry questions escape me._

" _So… where were you when I ran away? Where were you when I got myself mixed up in the gang? Where were you when I needed a place to go, huh? Where were you?" I am standing now, and the old man seems to shrink beneath my glare, and I feel bad. I rip my eyes away from him, muttering an apology._

 _He chuckles, and I look up in confusion._ Did I miss the humor in this conversation, or is he just insane? _I think. As if he could read my mind, he answers my questions. "You don't understand, do you," he muses. There's a sparkle in his eye that appears every time I get mad, like I'm some reality TV show. It's infuriating. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you, Tobias. I had problems of my own, you know. Your mother… She wanted what was best for you, and I thought you needed to learn this lesson yourself. I tried so many times to untangle you from this mess. I begged George to let you go, but he had other plans for you. I almost lost my life pleading with the police to search him. They won't help you, Tobias. They're under his influence."_

 _The man seems to be telling the truth, but if he is, why haven't I seen him before? I rack my brain, trying to remember if I have. It's no use. I ask him, and he responds with, "Are you sure, Tobias? Do you remember the night they tried to force you to kill the woman living alone, with six kids to take care of?"_

 _I do remember that. An involuntary shudder runs down my spine at the thought of what they attempted to make me do. But… where does the man fit in? I struggle to remember the details. Was he the man in the street? No… the man that wouldn't let me in! It was him!_

" _It was you! You tried to stop me from going into her apartment!" I say. I remember now! I couldn't at first, because he had disguised himself, adding scars all over his face, and he had a long beard then, too. He had told me to stop, to think about what I was doing. When I pushed past him, he had told me that the woman was gone. He made them to move out the day before, and he helped me stage their deaths. "You… I― I…" I pause, unsure of what to say. The man looks at me with a small smile, and I am reassured._

" _Thank you," I say, and I mean it._

 _He nods, and tells me to get some rest. I fall back onto the couch, utterly exhausted. Before my head hits the armrest, I'm asleep._

 _Later, he tells me to come with him. Intrigued, I follow him to his car. A nice Ferrari, sleek and matte black. It doesn't seem like his style, but who am I to judge? Anyway, he doesn't tell me where we're going, but I trust him. When we pull up at the high school, I am surprised. "Why are we here?" I ask him. I receive no reply, and upon getting out of the car, he tells me to run inside. Something in his voice urged me on, and I knew it was serious when I heard a rapid succession of gunshots behind me. I sprinted for cover._

 _I had never been in before, as I was only in eighth grade at the time, but I found my way to the office. It was the first door that led to a secluded space, and I figured I would be safe in there. I slid down against the wall, breathing heavily. I was deeply worried about the old man that had saved my life twice now, but forced myself to count to 150 before going back for him. I didn't need to. I heard footsteps at eighty-three, and pressed myself into the cabinet, for fear of the men that shot at us._

" _Tobias?" the old man called. "It's safe now. I took care of them."_

 _I was frozen in shock. Sure, I had been in tough situations, but no one had ever_ shot _at me before. In a local place, that is. I wanted to come out, to go back to the comfort of the plush seats in his car, but my body didn't respond to my mind._

 _After a minute, he called out again. "Tobias? Where are you? Are you hurt?"_

 _My mouth was dry, and I couldn't respond._

" _You can come out now," he added. "I won't bite you." And with that, I was freed from my little whatever-that-was, and I pushed open the cabinet door. He jumped. I guess it was just nerves. I would be jumpy too, if I thought I was alone in a room after someone had just tried to kill me and all of a sudden, a cabinet door slammed open._

 _He was quiet at first. His eyes were cast downward, and his lips were pressed into a straight line. His hands were in that little "I am a church, here is my steeple" position, and his chin rested on his knuckles. He opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, but then he shut it._

 _When he sighed, I knew something was wrong. I tensed. "What's wrong?" I said uncertainly._

 _He sighed again, but didn't answer me. I repeated my question, but he cut me off. "Tobias," he said, looking up, "there's something I need to tell you."_

 _ *****END FLASHBACK*****_

 _ **A/N-**_ **What'd you think? Am I getting boring yet? It sure feels like it. Don't forget to comment any questions you have, any comments, or suggestions. I'm open to everything except negative stuff. That isn't helpful, you know, and it hurts. As much as I hate to admit it, it does. Plus, it won't make the story better, so I don't get what you're trying to do. On that note, I'm sorry that it took so long for me to update. I sort of lost motivation when I got back to the U.S., but when someone sent me a PM, it made me want to keep writing. I asked if I could shout them out, but they wished to remain anon. So, with that, say peachy, followeroonies!**


	7. Chapter 4

**Tris' POV**

I gripped the edges of the bathroom sink hard. So hard, in fact, that my knuckles were white. I looked up at my reflection in the school's bathroom mirror, trying to even my breath out. Biting the inside of my cheek, I pushed away from the sink, glancing at my reflection in disgust. _Why couldn't I just forgive Christina?_ I thought. _What's wrong with me?_ I reposition my bag before composing myself and hurrying to my math class. The first of the day.

When I walk in, everyone is already seated, and the teacher is calling roll. He can't be over 5'2, and he's got these wire-rimmed glasses that sit on the edge of his nose. He's balding, has a beer belly, and his clothes are all wrinkled. I feel bad for him. To look that disheveled, you've got to have something really wrong going on in your life. He pauses when I walk in, looking up at me. "Can I help you?" he asks, his tone pompous, with a condescending look on his face.

"I―um, I'm in this class, sorry I'm late." I say. His face remains the same, and I cringe when I realize that everyone is looking at me. "I―I'll just take my seat…" I begin towards the back of the class. The only open seat is between two guys, one of which is looking at me with a hunter's desire, the other with curiosity.

When I sit down, the one on my left extends his hand. "I'm Zeke," he says. Leaning in close, he whispers, "Don't mind the player to your right. He'll move on eventually." Smiling, he says, "If you ever need anything, I'm your man, okay?" He winks, and I laugh. He seems like a cool guy. I hope we can be friends.

I smile at him. "Tris," I say. He nods. I turn back to the front, only to see that everyone else has a pencil out, while I'm sitting here without a thing on my desk. I quickly lean over, reaching into my bag, searching for a pencil. The guy on the other side of me lets out a low whistle, so that only I can hear it. I pull up my shirt and glare at him. Scooting my chair a little further away from him, I return my attention to the teacher. He's introducing himself as Mr. Costello.

The disgusting person beside me puts his arm around my shoulder. I wriggle under his grasp, but he just tightens his grip on me. His breath is hot on my neck when he says, "How 'ya doin', Trissy? I'm Felix. You see, you should ignore Zeke. He's a _criminal_." He puts emphasis on the last word.

I take an uncertain glance at Zeke. He hasn't seemed to notice the interaction between Felix and me, and I study his face. _Could he really be a criminal?_ I study his features. He's got a hard look on his face. Like a man who has never been loved. Men who have never been loved tend to do things that they can never be loved for doing. _Maybe, just maybe he could._

I glare at Felix. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, you're a criminal, too," I say. He looks at me first in surprise, and then his eyes narrow. He's got a murderous look on his face, and I'm scared. Actually, really scared. I reach my arm out and touch Zeke's arm, careful to make the movement subtle enough so Felix doesn't notice it. At first, Zeke either doesn't notice or thinks it was an accident, but then when I press my fingers into his arm, he looks over.

Seeing the panicked look on my face and Felix's restricting grip on my shoulders, he stands up and pushes Felix off of me, knocking over both his and Felix's chairs in the process. He towers over Felix. Then, we hear a nasally voice from the front of the room.

" _Mister_ Pedrad! What in God's name are you doing?!" Mr. Costello squeaks from the front of the room. While the students' heads turn to us, Zeke and I look at our teacher, who is busy bustling down the row.

"I… I…" Zeke stutters. He looks scared, which is strange. He's in a powerful position right now. But I guess, criminal or not, he's my friend, and I'll help him.

"It was me," I say. "This is my fault." Mr. Costello is astonished. His eyes are wide, and he's looking back and forth between the three of us. He nervously dabs at his shining forehead with a handkerchief. He clearly wasn't expecting the quiet, small-framed girl in the back of the room to cause trouble.

"Well then," he starts, "you'll report to the main office immediately. All of you," he adds, seeing the relieved smirk on Felix's face. I stand up shakily. This is the first time I've ever been in trouble with a teacher. Did you know that it's a criminal offense to disrupt school? I'm doomed. What will my parents think? Oh God, what will _Caleb_ think? I'm done for.

As we walk out of the classroom, Zeke reaches over and squeezes my hand. He must see how distressed I am. I'm thankful for him being here for me, so I squeeze back. I expect him to drop my hand after that, but he doesn't. I don't mind much. His hand is nice and warm, and feels comfortable. I send him a quick smile, and apologize profusely for getting him into trouble.

"What do you mean?" He's bewildered. I frown.

"Well, I got you into trouble. You'd still be in that classroom if I wasn't," I explain. He begins to laugh, a loud, booming one that fills the empty halls. A nice laugh. My eyebrows come together.

"What?" I ask. He looks at me incredulously.

"You're shi―sorry, kidding me, right?" he asks, still chuckling. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

I take my hand out of his and fold my arms across my chest, studying the ground. "Well, I mean, you'd be sitting there still, even if you were bored out of your mind, without me. It was my problem with _him―_ " I start to gesture toward Felix, but then I realize he's gone. I grab Zeke's arm. _Nice,_ I think, but I don't get much time to appreciate his form. "Felix, he's gone," I point out.

Zeke starts to chuckle again, and I glare at him. "I'm serious, Zeke! Where did he go?" I ask, looking all around me.

My companion (and, in a way, savior) gently grips my shoulder with one hand, putting a finger under my chin with his other hand, forcing me to look at him. "Tris," he says softly. "Chill out. He probably just took another route, or maybe he's skipping. It's no biggie." His words are calming.

"I'm sorry." I close my eyes and breathe out slowly. "It's just that, well, this is my first time that I've ever been sent to the office. I'm supposed to be this perfect student, perfect person, always unselfish, always giving, always helping, always―"

"Tris," Zeke says. I stop my rant and look up at him. Tears are starting to form in my eyes. I'm not quite sure why. He has a small, sad smile on his face when he pulls me in for a hug. "Shh," he whispers. "It's alright. I'm here." I am grateful (once again) for his comforting gesture. I feel safe in his arms, and don't want to let go, but after a minute, I pull away and push my hair back. I wipe at my eyes and give him a smile.

I sniffle. "Thanks." His hand meets mine again, and I squeeze. Our fingers are still locked when we enter the office.


End file.
